Secrets In My Skin
by Maddie Rose
Summary: Elethea Ambrose has become the Capitol's champion. The resistance faces a difficult choice: as Elethea continues to grow as a threat, can they risk letting her live? Finnick's resolve will be put to the ultimate test as Elethea plummets into darkness. In the end, some fights can't be won, and some people can't be who they once were. Finnick/OC.
1. Painted

**Chapter One: Painted**

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><p><strong>AN: So...welcome to the third story of Elethea's journey! If you're new, welcome. You should probably read 'Dig Up The Bones' and 'Leave The Soul Alone' before you read this so you understand what's going on. If you're back, welcome! This story is going to be quite dark, as per the others. **

**This first chapter might come across a little confusing, Elethea is in a very fragile state of mind and that is definitely going to show.**

**As of yet, no, I have not seen Mockingjay. I am going in 2 days and that is why this chapter is quite short and only focuses on Elethea. I didn't want to risk doing anything from Finnick's POV before I saw the movie, but rest assured he'll be in next chapter ;)**

**Please review and let me know what you think :D**

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><p><em>"<em>_I'm chasing all the lines of your skin_

_And all your pirouette mistakes_

_So dance until you're brand new_

_Ignore the fight inside that scares you."_

_- Painted, Evans Blue_

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><p><strong>Elethea's POV<strong>

If there was a before, I don't remember it.

My mind consists of pieces of a puzzle that haven't been put together. That's because some of the pieces are still missing. The full picture is right there, but I can't grasp it. All I can remember is loyalty. To District 4, to the Capitol. I do what I'm told. Obedience without question. Things that have been drilled into the fragments over and over again. Maybe, if I _am_ obedient, I get more pieces. Maybe the puzzle will be put back together.

I remember faces. A beautiful man with eyes like the ocean, radiant as the sun. A girl with brown hair and hazel eyes full of pity, who stands in my doorway from time to time. Sometimes I think I remember their names, but it's reaching for something just above my head, held tauntingly just out of reach. There's one face I can put a name to: dark hair, cruel eyes. _Hyperion Dormer_.

"Elethea?"

A blonde man stands in my room. I remember his name, too. Gloss. His sister died in the Quarter Quell. I remember parts of that, but nothing solid. Flashes of things that might be dreams, or might be reality. It's hard to tell, so I don't try. I forget about the before, and I focus on the now. It's the only way to stay sane.

"What are you doing here?" I rasp, sitting up slowly. My head is pounding. Yesterday…what did I do yesterday? Oh that's right, I saw Peeta, and President Snow. More names and faces that I can remember. We're the loyal ones, Peeta and I. Snow was saying he was proud of us, that we've done a service to the Capitol. That we are to be commended.

"I was sent here."

"But why?" I ask, unable to understand. Gloss is usually kept in the cells below. He's a traitor. He isn't loyal. Hyperion's told me that, many times. He can't be trusted.

"For you," he says, and for some reason, shivers wriggle like worms down my spine. He steps closer, and I spring to my feet, Victor instincts kicking in. Why is Gloss here? What does he want? Who sent him?

He moves with surprising speed for a man of his size, grabbing me by the wrists hard enough to bruise. I cry out as he forces me against the wall, and I'm shaking because I don't understand. Ally or enemy? Real or fake? It hurts trying to think about it and I want to close my eyes, but I can't, because I don't know what will happen if I do.

"Gloss?" I choke out.

Something sparks in the depths of his eyes. Pity. "I'm sorry. I have to."

"What are you talking about?" I rasp. But Gloss doesn't have any more words for me, only actions. He reaches out, fisting his hands in my shirt and tugging hard so that it's ripped messily in two. I don't see his conflicted blue eyes, I see Hyperion's cruel ones there instead, and then I'm sobbing so hard that my frame is shaking with the force of it.

Because I _understand._ I understand, and it's sick.

Gloss tosses me so that I go spinning, hurtling across the room like a ballerina on ecstasy, hitting the edge of the bed and tumbling onto it. He follows, pressing down upon me, a heavy weight that makes me feel like I'm suffocating. I scratch and claw and kick. There are tears in Gloss's eyes as he pins my wrists with ease, reaching to flip up my skirt.

I _scream_. The descent begins and my sanity is shattered like a mirror.

Again.

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><p>I wake up later and everything is a haze. I don't remember things clearly, but the bruises on my wrists and thighs are evidence enough. I start shaking as some of the puzzle pieces slide into place and all I can think of is: why? Why would he do that to me? Bile rises in my throat and I just manage to make it to the bathroom before I vomit in the toilet. I try so hard not to cry, but there's a lump in my throat and my eyes are stinging with the tears I won't let myself shed.<p>

I crumple to my knees and curl up in a ball. Have I done something, to deserve this kind of punishment? I've killed people in my time, but that was for survival. It's nothing no other Victor has done. I know that it wasn't Gloss, but at the same time it was. The face of the man I gave my virginity to haunts me when I screw my eyes shut. I blurt out a sob and press my face into my hands.

Footsteps make me look up and I see Hyperion leaning in the doorway. There's a sympathetic expression on his face, but those eyes are cold, taunting. As if I'm meant to have learned some kind of twisted lesson from this.

_Who do you belong to?_

But I don't belong to anyone. Or if I did, it would be Finnick Odair. Finnick, who's so far away, wherever he is. I hope he's safe. I don't begrudge him his safety. Maybe he'll come looking for me. Maybe he can't. Until he finds me, I'm stuck here, with the monsters inside my head and the monsters who don the masks of humans.

"He hurt you, didn't he, sweet Elethea?" Hyperion asks, but I don't reply. I stay curled up on the cold tiles because maybe if I ignore him, he'll leave me alone. Instead he kneels in front of me, catching my chin and making me look at him. "Now you see that the Capitol can make a beast of anyone. We did it to him, we could do it to you. To your precious Finnick, when we get him."

"_No_!" I scream, lashing out with fists and nails and batting him away from me. They've already made me a monster. They won't do the same to Finnick. I won't let them. Hyperion easily grabs my wrists, hurling me to the floor. I don't even attempt to try again. Instead I clutch my knees to my chest and hold back tears, ignoring the burning in my eyes and my throat.

_Who do you belong to?_

_The Capitol._

But he never will. Not Finnick.


	2. Only Human

**Chapter Two: Only Human**

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><p><strong>AN: It's been a very busy holiday period, and I hope you can all forgive me in the delay in updating. However, I'm in full swing once again, and I hope you enjoy this chapter :) Really pleased by the response so far, please review and let me know what you think :)**

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><p><em>"<em>_But I'm only human,_

_And I bleed when I fall down_

_I'm only human_

_And I crash and I break down_

_Your words in my head_

_Knives in my heart_

_You build me up and then I fall apart."_

_- Human, Christina Perri_

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><p><strong>Finnick's POV<strong>

At first, all I could do was succumb to misery. Knowing that the Capitol had Elethea, that she was slowly becoming their creature, was too much to bear. I sat in my room and cried for hours on end, until my eyes were swollen and sore and my head pounded. Then I realised that wasn't of any use to anyone. So I started tying knots, ignoring the calluses forming on my fingers. Tying, untying. The pattern repeated.

But it was another human being who actually shattered the shell I had crawled into. The strongest woman I've ever met: Rayne Ambrose. If she had lost two children – one to the Games and another to the Capitol – and could be the driven and determined person she was today, by god, so could I. Rayne embodies everything that I could ever admire in a person, and it was no surprise that Elethea was so much like her mother.

"I know that you're hurting." Rayne sets her hand on my shoulder one morning when we're down in the cafeteria. "But so I am. Instead of focusing on the knots, we need to think of how we can get her and the Victors out."

I remember a child, a fourteen-year-old who was too proud to see what the Games were really like, until they broke her. A girl prostituted out at the age of fifteen, to meet the sick desires of Capitolians. Who at sixteen, lost her younger brother. There was only so much someone could bend before they broke. I'm so frightened, terrified that Elethea's time in the Capitol without me there is going to shatter her. I fear for who she will be by the time we get to her.

"She won't still be Elethea," I whisper.

"It's because she's been hijacked." Rayne's voice comes out so strong, not even a waver. "She isn't herself at the moment. But she will fight it with every fibre of her being."

I look up at her. "How do you know that?"

Rayne smiles sadly, tears brimming in her eyes. "Because she is my daughter."

That, I cannot disagree with. But my eyes keep drifting up to the television, to reports of what's happening in the Capitol. I haven't seen anything of Elethea since her direct threat to Katniss. Is she still alive? Is she really coming for us? Does she pose a threat to the Mockingjay? So many questions unanswered. Yet I have the feeling that, soon enough, we will find out.

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><p><strong>Elethea's POV<strong>

It's during one of my sane states, where I'm not delirious or feeling fuzzy, that I visit Peeta Mellark. At first, I think that the Peacekeepers might tell me that I can't, might try and stop me. So I'm surprised to find that my path to Peeta is unimpeded. I just walk right into his room where he's dressed all in white, sitting by the window and reading a book. He looks up, and there's something almost content about his expression. An irritation prickles beneath my skin.

"Peeta," I say coolly, watching as he sets his book down and walks towards me. He was always a pleasant person, Peeta. Katniss was the sort of fiery renegade that many would find disagreeable. Peeta was the peacemaker, the mediator. But here in the Capitol, he shouldn't look as comfortable as he does now. Why can't he feel that something is wrong?

"Elethea." He smiles, and it's genuine, which is why I hate it. There's no doubting he's been injected with the tracker jacker venom. So why isn't he fighting it? "I haven't seen you for a while. How have you been?"

"Are you serious?" I raise my eyebrows at his casual words. We're being held prisoner in the Capitol and asking me how I'm going? "Have you asked Enobaria how she's going? Or…"

I try and say Gloss's name, but it still tastes bitter on my tongue, and I think I'll vomit if I utter it. The humiliation still cuts deep as a knife, and his name is not something I can voice out loud just yet. What Gloss did was a thousand times worse than anything Hyperion ever put me through, because I never thought they could break him that much, make him fall that far that he would hurt me in such a degrading, horrific way.

"What do you mean?" Peeta looks perplexed, as if he truly doesn't understand. I want to grab his shoulders and shake him until he understands, but I know that won't do anything to help. Instead I can only stare at him incredulously.

"Don't you see what they're doing? They're hurting us, Peeta. If they haven't started on you, they will soon."

His face changes. He looks slightly scared. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do," I persist, because I see that I'm starting to get through to him. His calm façade is breaking, and he's starting to realise that the Capitol aren't just going to keep us in cosy little rooms for no particular reason. We were taken. "Do you think they're suddenly going to be nice, Peeta? The Capitol has done nothing for you. It's because of them that you were in the Games in the first place."

"They haven't killed us," Peeta says defensively, although he lacks conviction, "They haven't harmed us."

"Yes they have!" I explode before I can help myself. My icy demeanour has melted, and now I find myself furious, furious with the fact that the Capitol has gotten Peeta onto their side. "Don't you know what happened to people like Finnick and Cashmere? How they were prostituted out? How they killed Haymitch's family? How they made Gloss…they made him…"

Peeta sees me falter and frowns. "Made him what? Elethea?"

He reaches for me, but I shrink away from him. It's too soon for me to what to be touched, even by as gentle a person as him. Instead I ignore the fact that my hands are shaking, and hold up my bruised wrists for him to inspect. Peeta is not a child. The horror that comes into his eyes tells me that he understands all too well.

"He…"

"Yes, he raped me," I spit the words out, as if by forcing them out more quickly, I'll be able to handle it. It's out in the open now. "Not of his own accord. Because he was put under tracker jacker venom. Don't you see, Peeta? They're turning us against our own. The Capitol isn't kind because they've spared us. If anything, I think that makes it even worse."

Peeta just stares at me, like I'm a wild animal and he doesn't know how to tame me, control me. He's beginning to understand, but my fervency has frightened him. I sigh heavily and rake a hand through my messy dark hair. There is only so much I can tell him. Unfortunately, it seems that this is something Peeta will have to experience himself.

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><p>When I find out that President Snow has asked to see me, I feel an immense cold come over me. My stomach twists itself into knots, the palms of my hands go clammy and I feel like I might be sick. This can't mean anything good. Perhaps Peeta told him about the chat we had, and Snow is going to reprimand me before finding a suitable punishment. The thought terrifies me, and I can't help but shake as the Peacekeepers lead me into his office.<p>

"Miss Ambrose." Snow sits at his desk, offering me a cold smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Please, sit."

It's not a request. It's an order. I take a seat, barely preventing myself from fidgeting and wondering what I have done to be called into his office to speak with him in person. It must be something to do with Peeta. I can't think of any other crimes I have committed whilst I've been in the Capitol.

"Have I done something wrong, sir?" I ask timidly, unable to meet his gaze. I want to fight and yell and spit in his face. But I'm tired of facing the consequences for the actions of all the Victors. I'm tired of being beaten and raped because the Capitol is sick, and wants to punish us, looks for reasons to do so.

"No, that's not why I asked you to come here." Snow forces a tight smile. "You have no doubt realised the threat that has been posed to us here in the Capitol. The rebels in the so-called District 13, led by Katniss Everdeen. You remember the speech you gave the first night you were here, don't you?"

Bits and pieces. I remember threatening Katniss, the Mockingjay. Telling her that I was coming for her. When I'm not, I'm still here in the Capitol, I couldn't damage them even if I wanted to. That wasn't me talking, that was the tracker jacker venom. It was all televised, and I wonder if Finnick saw it all. If he's disgusted with me now, and what he thinks I've become.

But instead of saying that, I nod mutely. I'm quickly coming to realise that fighting and surviving are two very similar things. After all, I wasn't a fighter when I won my Games. I was a survivor. But becoming a Victor marked me out as a fighter. Sometimes, to survive, you have to fight the sneaky way. That means pretending you agree with the Capitol, even if you don't. Suddenly, Peeta Mellark doesn't seem like such a coward to me after all.

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Snow leans back in his chair. "You have become the face of the Districts, and their strength against the uprising. Districts like 1 and 2, and naturally your home district of 4, are looking to you. Your spirit in the face of the radicals has given them hope."

I wonder where this is going. It's a bit concerning for me to learn that my time in front of the camera criticising the rebellion is not done. They'll inject me with more tracker jacker venom and I'll spout more vicious nonsense that I don't even believe in. But instead of questioning Snow, I remain silent and listen to what he's going to want from me next.

"There is growing unrest in districts such as 8." Snow's lips curls, and I swallow hard. "No doubt many of the lower districts believe they're getting a hard bargain. I will do my best to convince them, but you need to do some convincing of your own."

"What do you mean?" I frown, forgetting all about the 'sir'. "How could I inspire a district like 8? They barely even know who I am."

"8 doesn't," Snow agreed, "But your home district of 4, the other wealthy districts such as 1 and 2 – those are the districts that will listen to you. If you show conviction, belief in the Capitol, they may yet decide in our favour."

I want to tell Snow that I refuse, I refuse to go and brainwash the people of my district and the neighbouring ones as I have been brainwashed. That I would like nothing more than to go and tell them to join the Mockingjay, because her cause is one worth fighting for. But the choice has been taken out of my hands, for when I glance over my shoulder, I notice a Peacekeeper heading towards me with a syringe.

I lurch out of my chair, and it clatters to the floor. Snow watches calmly as the Peacekeeper grabs me forcibly by my bruised wrist, making me cry out, and pricks my vein with the point of the syringe. Tracker jacker venom floods into my system, and I can't help but choke back a sob. Today, I am Elethea Ambrose. Tomorrow, I am the Capitol's monster once again.


End file.
